Crybaby Cate

Ambrose Bierce wrote in 1911 that patience is a minor form of despair, disguised as a virtue. I was informed today that one of my poems is now a casualty of editorial discretion. It was disappointing because I'd made it through several "cuts." I wonder what it is about writers that compels us to keep submitting work as the rejection slip pile grows ever larger. I suppose I lack the good sense to know when to stop...for now I shall continue to bludgeon the publishing world with my work until it wearily relents. I am, in the Ambrosian sense of the word, feeling very patient today.

(no subject)

Hey, Lee Tamahori, will you marry me?